


Ghost of Your Smile

by SoftObsidian74



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't Examine This Too Closely, Don't Judge Me, F/M, My First Fanfic, POV Character of Color
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 07:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftObsidian74/pseuds/SoftObsidian74
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angelina Johnson has a silent conversation with herself during the memorial reception for the fallen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost of Your Smile

I will remember you, will you remember me?  
Don't let your life pass you by  
Weep not for the memory...

-Song lyrics by Sarah McLachlan for “I Will Remember You”

 

She keeps asking me if I want something to eat. I don’t really want to eat; I want to leave. Matter of fact, I’d like to die. 

How ‘bout a side of death with that roast Ms. Weasley? 

I wish I had died in battle. I never was brave enough to really fight the way that you did, thinking that win or lose, it only mattered how hard you fought. I was always so scared when I fought—scared of losing. Now I’m here, alive, regretfully so. And I have to be around these people. They’re laughing, recalling their memories of you and the others. They’re eating and laughing with sad, tearful eyes. That’s mental, isn’t it? Crying and laughing at the same time. How dare they laugh when you’re not here to tell the joke? 

I roll my eyes at them, for being so thoughtless. And then I can’t help but grow tense when I see your mum coming towards me once again. I fake a smile so she won’t see the pain, so she might leave me alone.

I suppose I understand. She’s keeping herself busy, bringing out endless trays of food, trying to make sure everyone else is comfortable so she doesn’t have to stop and think about you.

No, I know I’m not the only one aching for you.

But how can I eat anything at all when I know that you’re in your grave, the lid of your coffin casting a permanent shadow over that beautiful smile. 

Gods, Angelina, that’s rather grim. Morbid even! 

If you were here, I’m sure you’d manage to make a joke right now to cheer me up. I never was good at making a joke without you around. 

Oh, but I’d have loads of jokes ready when you’d make yours. Your jokes always came with a smug smile that could light up a room…

That smile!

It was infectious. You made everyone smile, even when you weren’t smiling on the inside. You hid your anger and pain well. But I noticed. I could always tell the difference; wit would roll off your tongue light and silly when all was well. But when you were angry or hurt, it could stab daggers of truth and expose the weaknesses in someone’s heart. Like when Percy stopped talking to your family, you were relentless, keeping the lot of them laughing through the pain of it. If he ever heard the things you had said, even he would have seen the ugliness of his betrayal, and even he would have smiled in spite of himself. 

Or that time when I chewed out Harry for getting detention with Umbridge, jeopardizing our upcoming match. I swear I didn’t know what was going on at the time, but you put me in my place. But even then, your smile never faltered.  
I find myself smirking, in spite of myself, recalling the memories one after another.

And then you and George came up with that brilliant plan to get him out of that mess while offering your usual gift of humor. What was that you said? Something about a big, bloody bitch who was brandishing blood quills. Whatever you said, you made Harry smile, and smiling was rare for Harry that year. He’d been through so much. And you knew that.

You knew people went through too much in life. That’s why you carried jokes around like they were Knuts. They were worth Galleons to the people you made laugh. And you… you were priceless.

And so are my memories of you. I don’t know whether I’m blessed or cursed knowing that I’ll never feel as pretty or desired or have as much fun as I did with you the night you took me to the Yule Ball. I was always brave on the Quidditch field, but in my dress that night, as I looked in the mirror, I found myself shaking. I almost talked myself out of going, falling victim to my insecurity. I knew who I was when I was playing the Chaser, but in a dress, I was lost. But you were fearless; as always, you were brave enough for the both of us. You gave me permission to be free, to have fun… and we had plenty that night. When we took over the dance floor, bringing smiles and laughter to everyone around us, I knew there was no limit to what I could do when I was around you. I knew that you would be there to catch me even when I didn’t know I was falling. And I knew… I knew I was yours. 

When you took me for the first time that night, your humor eased the awkward embarrassment I felt as I shook in silence under you, opening myself up for the first time to anyone. I squeezed my eyes shut, anticipating the pain that would come when my virginity would be torn, but you chuckled, softly caressed my cheek, and whispered, “Oi Angelina, open your damn eyes, you’re gonna miss my best sexy face!” I giggled so hard, I hardly felt it when you pushed through, becoming a part of me. Pleasure and laughter always went together when we made love. I know now that the only way I could ever love again is through laughter. 

The laughter, it was a package deal. A Fred and George Thing; a part of you two as much as you were a part of each other. But even though you and he were a pair, you weren’t the same. The others always had a hard time telling you and George apart. I never did…

Your smile, your laugh, the way you looked at me was one of a kind, it’s hard to describe, but easy to capture if I just closed my eyes and thought about you. You were just as unique, unpredictable, and dangerously fun as the Ton-Tongue Toffees or Tooth-flossing Stringmints you two sold.

I was so proud of you; you just left school to pursue your dreams. You had your own store while the rest of us were still just trying to just make it through school! Fearless as always, you stepped out on faith, a dream, and raw nerve. Just like that.

I’ll admit, at first I was pissed. I felt abandoned—but I never did like sharing. I never got used to the way people would seek you out so you could infect them with your wit and smile. But I knew you were always there if I needed you. I knew that just because you weren’t at Hogwarts didn’t mean I couldn’t comfort myself with the memory of the good times we had there, and that beautiful smile, even if most nights it was just in my dreams… 

I don’t know where you are now. I can’t say that I believe much in God at the moment. What God would take away laughter like yours and call it victory? Victory. Ha! They claimed it over the Dark Lord and his followers, but I’ve never felt so defeated.

I remember when I would feel defeated after losing a Quidditch match, thinking I was not up to the task of being a Captain. You used to pat me on my back and tell me I really shouldn’t take myself so seriously because nobody else did.

I wish you were here now, even if you didn’t have a joke, I know that just seeing your smile would lift me up. 

Even now, as I sit here, freely crying and laughing at the same time, I’m aware that I have to pull it together. People are starting to stare at me now. It’s bad enough they are monitoring how much I’m eating or trying to measure if I’m going to totally lose it in a crying fit. At least they’re giving me some space; I guess some of them know I’m working something out in my head right now. But I still see the pitiful looks they cast in my direction and hear the hushed murmurs of their condolences.

I know you what you would say. ‘Angelina, you’re being so dramatic.’

Can’t I be a little mental right now? Oh, I’m sure you’re probably somewhere right now, mocking me… stringing an imaginary bow on a fake violin to go along with my tears. You’d probably say I’m trying to find an angle on this whole situation to use as an excuse to stay on my arse all day while mum pampers me. Sometimes you could really be such an insensitive git.

That would have probably been funnier if you had said it.

I can see this is gonna be loads of fun; thinking of what you would say and do to make me laugh. It only makes you not being here hurt more. 

Yes, yes, I know you would tell me to pull it together. So here I am; I know the crying will end… one day. Life goes on and all of that codswallop, but what kind of life awaits, I don’t know. I’ll leave Hogwarts soon and make a new life in this new world you died to create. Where the threat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone, where hope has planted its seed and is seen on the faces of everyone, even as they mourn the dead. You’d love it, I know. There is a new energy, a new feeling of things to come and the relief of no longer being haunted by the fear of persecution and death. 

But, wherever I go, I swear your smile will haunt me, the ghost of my refuge from insecurity and pain. I’ll always have the memories of that beautiful smile.

Yea, I’ll always have that, and I guess that’s something worth living for, isn’t it?

Here comes your mum again. 

“Angelina dear, are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

“Actually Mrs. Weasley, I think I will have a bite, thank you.”


End file.
